


Love that never told can be

by goldenboat



Series: Our story in Sunrises and Sunsets... [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bottom Castiel, Daddy Castiel, Daddy Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, Journalism, Journalist Dean, Kidfic, M/M, Medical Procedures, Non-Graphic Violence, Post Mpreg, Professor Castiel, Romance, Schmoop, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2018-12-22 10:50:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenboat/pseuds/goldenboat
Summary: Dean is a renowned journalist and Castiel is his Professor husband. Just when everything seemed okay...Castiel's world unravels with Dean's accident. But that's life...and friends do make every struggle worth fighting.Castiel still has Dean ...and it's all that matters.It should have been a perfect fairy tale...two entwined hearts...one wishing to stay back...and the other refusing to let go.And still...forever seems miles away.





	Love that never told can be

**Author's Note:**

> This is a figment of my imagination. All mistakes are mine. Reviews are love. Title borrowed from the poem "Love's secret" by William Blake.

There’s a Castiel who lives right under Dean’s skin….

He breaths in the same intimate air as Dean and shares the same heartbeat, the same skin and the same scars.

In a time when faith is shattered every other moment , it’s hard to make anyone believe that such a Castiel exists.

But it has never really mattered.

To Castiel at least.

This Castiel is an elusive one….much like a missing puzzle piece that keeps on floating around in unsteady waters evading every attempt of recovery.

It’s only when Dean’s near that Castiel gets to meet him.

His lost part.

It’s only in moments like these that Castiel wants to possess Dean.

Not just out of passion.

Rather to reclaim his wayward self lost within Dean’s being.

It’s a heady sensation.

Castiel’s lost somewhere in the middle of it all.

“Cas?” Someone whispers from below him, voice dimmed and muffled as if spoken from depths of the ocean…

And Castiel suddenly comes to his senses.

“Hmmm?” He responds without bothering to speak, lips firmly attached to the tiny mole below Dean’s ear.

Dean doesn’t answer.

He closes his eyes before burrowing himself further in the enticing warmth that Castiel’s body is spreading all over him.

Castiel does this every time Dean returns.

It’s hard for Dean to name it.

Even harder for Castiel to make sense of his own impulses.

It’s the middle of the night and they are in their own bed…a tangle of limbs and rough exhales…clothes strewn on the floor in sheer abandon.

The baby blessedly asleep.

 

And Dean is lying bare under Castiel’s gentle explorations , as the other is making an inventory of every part of Dean he has lost touch with in the past few months.

And the Cas hiding underneath Dean’s skin finally becomes one with the Cas of outside, making him a whole again.

Dean moans as lips follow an enticing trail down his body, too far gone by this point to actually respond physically other than clutching the bedspread with unforgiving fingers.

It seems everything has come alive all of a sudden.

Every bit of raised skin, scars and blemishes, numerous marks that are but ruthless leftovers from a life of chasing headlines suddenly strive to come back from the dead.

The angel tattoo on Dean’s chest….the dusky nipples…the belly…and the happy trail down….down below….

Castiel knows it all.

It’s like getting hold of your lost guitar.

Moments of hesitation , fingers stiff with lack of practice ,and lost tunes later… you realize with perfect clarity that it’s all there in you.

The tunes…the music…the chords…and the fingers.

You know it all.

Dean can’t point out the exact moment when it happens.

When everything else becomes inconsequential…when Dean’s sky is suddenly overcast with clouds and Castiel….and he finds himself surrounded by his husband in the most intimate way possible.

Castiel lives for these moments.

It’s sex but not just…

It’s love but not quite…

It’s a prayer and a possession , all at the same time.

Castiel tamps down the maddening desire of  keeping every bit of his Dean locked in him….to keep the intoxicating rhythm from running its course until the end of time ….to never ever loosen his hold and let Dean go.

 

No one speaks when it ends.

Body to body they lay intertwined like inseparable vines, breathing out rough exhales like waves clashing along a pebbled beach.

And it’s then that Dean notices it.

Still below Castiel, still connected mind and bodily in that intricate way that’s rare these days, the colour on the bedroom walls suddenly seems bright.

“Hey Cas?” Dean whispers to the man resting on his chest, mossy green eyes fixed on the cyan blue of the ceiling.

“Hmmm?” Castiel nods, suddenly too comfortable to make an effort to speak.

“Did you do the walls when I was away? It wasn’t always this bright….was it ?” He runs a callused palm all over the sweaty back prompting a full bodied shiver from Castiel who breaks into a gleeful smile.

“Do the walls when you were away? Are you crazy?” Blue eyes shine with barely concealed mischief that Dean revels in.

This Castiel is his alone.

“So it’s true huh? Love makes everything bright…” And Dean finds the last syllable spoken against his lips.

It’s true.

Colours are indeed brighter .

 

****

 

The room is white all over.

Not the kind of white that sets you at peace.

It’s the kind of white that shrouds your vision in a sort of deathly pallor, that forces you to believe that the makers of this room have deliberately and consciously wrenched out every bit of colour from the walls, dead sure that nothing good can come out of them.

Once in a while ,a hushed voice of some faceless nurse shatters through the haze of his barely clinging consciousness from beyond the door and makes him aware of his surroundings.

Of the reason of his being here.

Castiel can’t quite recall his journey to the hospital.

He faintly remembers strapping his sleeping baby to the car seat with shaking hands.

But the drive is a blur.

Bits and pieces of the past hour seems to surface for no apparent reason.

His almost stumble in the parking lot.

The face of the kind elderly lady who caught his arms mid-stumble, saving him from crashing on the hard ground ,baby and all.

The dull throbbing of his left foot in his otherwise numbed body.

He isn’t sure if he had thanked her.

He faintly remembers the lady at the reception who had asked him to wait when Castiel wanted to see his husband.

Wait.

Castiel’s familiar with that thing.

“You need to wait here Mr. Winchester. The doctor will see you soon.” She had said after making a call without so much as looking at Castiel, pointing at the white plastic chair in the waiting lounge.

She has dirty blond hair and keen grey eyes.

 Her face is  shielded by a practiced apathy that makes Castiel’s skin crawl.

If you ask Castiel, he won’t for the life of him be able to tell if she is pretty or not, if she is young or old.

What stood out at that moment was her impassiveness.

With a startling realization Castiel had understood that she is not unkind, just too used to giving such news to anxious families.

 

Only one thing seems to tie him firmly to the mortal world.

It’s the steady exhale of hushed warm breath across his shoulder that makes him aware of everything else.

Josh is blissfully unaware, face tucked in the hollow of his dad’s neck .

It’s the tiny weight of his warm little body strewn across Castiel’s chest that grounds him to the reality.

 

It seems like hours rather than mere minutes.

And Castiel can’t wait anymore.

He feels like the walls are closing on him, and suddenly the wide hallway of the hospital seems like stifling.

He can’t breathe ….can’t fucking breathe…

And the doctor’s taking forever to arrive.

For a terrifying minute, Castiel is happy that the doctor hasn’t appeared yet.

Too many nightmares over the years have culminated into this moment and he knows what to expect.

He knows what the doctor’s gonna say.

The detested part of his brain that never ever gives him a moment of rest, unfailingly supplies morbid images of Dean , lifeless in a maze of wires and tubes and beeping monitors.

Castiel doesn’t want to see it.

He doesn’t.

And he doesn’t know what to do.

He wants all of this to be one of those relentless nightmares that plague him  each night ,every night when Dean’s away and to open his eyes in the throes of a bloody vision only to find the face he loves more than life itself sharing his pillow, safe in his arms.

But life has never been about what Castiel wants.

The white plastic chairs littered across the hallway are in no way comforting and Castiel wants to sink to the floor.

He can’t help stealing glances at the ominous red letters on the entrance of the ICU.

Dean’s here just across the wall.

And Castiel knows he’s gone, because Castiel is not that lucky.

He has never been.

Fate has a unique way of keeping Castiel’s most cherished dream away from him, always within reach but never quite so.

Dean.

And he knows that Dean’s gone.

The broken man gives himself a mighty shake to tear himself from the grasp of the unreal, and the little movement shatters the last remaining bastion of peace in the hallway.

The baby gives a shrill cry and rouses with a jerk, thrashing his little arms and legs against his father’s chest.

And that does it.

For a second Castiel doesn’t know how to react.

He doesn’t know where he is, or his reason of being in this strange place, or the alien being thrashing in the enclosure of his arms seeking his attention.

And then the inborn instinct kicks in.

His baby.

Crying.

In the hospital.

Castiel does the only thing he can think of….

“Shhhh….daddy’s here…shhh…it’s…it’s okay..” He lowers himself on the ground…rocking his baby back and forth…

Knowing fully well that he has lied.

Dad’s not here, and no, it's not okay.

He can hear voices approaching him…muted…

But Castiel tries to drown them all in the gentle back and forth motion , unmindful of everything else in this godforsaken place.

He’s not sure who the motion is for, him or his baby -  but it quietens the baby nevertheless.

It’s not the inner turmoil that scares him the most…

He has lived with it every day of his life, ever since he had Dean.

It’s not a pleasant feeling altogether, but worrying for Dean is something he lives for.

It means he still has something to worry about….. something to look forward to.

It’s the calm that’s unsettling.

Castiel doesn’t do calm.

He opens his eyes and they instantly fall on a pair of brown moccasins, and a glimpse of white lab coat…

Someone’s standing before him.

It’s a woman.

He hates himself for being so weak, but he still can’t find the courage to look at the stranger’s eyes to face the truth.

“He…he’s gone right? That’s what you gonna tell me?” He whispers, eyes still stubbornly fixed on the mosaic patterns of the floor.

There’s a moment of pause.

And then someone speaks back.

“You really think I’m gonna let anything happen to the freak Cas?”

Castiel doesn’t know what he had been expecting, or rather dreading, but the response throws him off.

She’s not just a doctor.

There’s only one person in the entire world who loves to call Dean so .

There's only one from whom Dean has always flat out refused to accept any other moniker.

The reaction to those words are instant.

Blue eyes sharply look up from the floor and widen at the sight before him.

 

 

She’s not supposed to be here.

Last time Castiel knew, she was in…

But,here she is.

Ever present plaid peeking from under the white lab coat, red hair tied in a messy pigtail, glasses too big for her slender face…

Arms akimbo, and eyebrows raised in signature exasperation.

“Freak’s gotta give you at least four more babies before he even thinks about hightailing…”She whispers, eyes soft on the sleeping baby as she cards her fingers through baby’s hair.

“Bee?” Eyes overflow as the broken man scrambles to stand up, and he finds himself holding on to her shoulder for support.

“Yeah…Bee. Come on…let’s get you on that chair first…you look like you need a gurney more than him… What am I gonna do with you two huh?” Castiel winces in lieu of response as sensation returns to his numb legs…as they try to hoist him up , sleeping baby , diaper bag and all.

It may seem an impossible endeavour to untrained eyes, him being built like the way he is -  but they get it done.

Mainly because it’s her, and she’s one of the most stubborn people Castiel has come across.

“Bee? Is he….? They…they told me…” Castiel can’t find it in himself to finish his sentence. He looks at her, eyes brimming with silent query as she kneels before him.

She doesn’t seem tensed, and that should be comforting.

But having known her all these years, it could be anything but.

She’s just like Dean, a rock in trying times.

“Yeah…..he had an accident ….” She shakes her head when he tries to stand up yet again.

“On…on the highway?” Castiel closes his eyes , as she nods sadly.

The inner visual of Dean getting hit is too horrifying …

“He was rounding a sharp curve….Some boys thought it would be funny to overtake him and hit him on the rear…Freak lost control and hit a tree.” She gets up and takes the chair next to him.

“Couple of college kids Cas….ten in the morning and totally trashed…” It takes a while for the words to sink in.

Castiel has always kind of believed that the world at large is scheming to wrest Dean away from him.

That if something happens to him, it will be in an unknown land, far away from home.

All his nightmares always tend to conjure up a vivid imagery of Dean ,l ying unattended in a bloody mess in the middle of a ruthless arid country.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Freak had his seat belt on…and the airbags deployed fully. Otherwise it would have been….!” She has known Castiel far too long to actually finish the sentence.

But Castiel gets it anyway.

“Ho..how is …Dean? Bee? They sa…said…over the phone …they said head in..injury….Bee?” Castiel closes his eyes yet again.

Why is it that he still can’t imagine Dean getting hurt in any way, even after all these years of him being in a profession that mindlessly gambles with his life on a regular basis, Castiel doesn’t know.

“He was brought in with head and chest trauma due to sudden impact.” She held Castiel’s hand in her own as the other man barely held himself together at the ominous words.

“He…head trauma?” Castiel’s voice shook as he voiced it.

“He has skull fracture…and we suspected internal haemorrhage as well. He was a little disoriented on arrival…but scan and MRI for clots and cranial nerve damage are negative.” Castiel closes his eyes at the sheer relief those words induced.

“It’s his chest trauma that concerned us. I guess he tried to brace himself when it happened ,but his chest collided against the steering wheel.” She begins again, shattering the momentary peaceful lull at her previous words.

“Freak tried to brace himself with his arm …you know? Got himself a shoulder-joint tear as a result” She mimics the supposed movement with her outstretched left arm, and Castiel nods.

“Chest X-ray has shown multiple rib fractures Cas…but thankfully there’s no lung puncture or massive internal rupture. There was very minor pericardial bleeding on arrival, but we got it under control. EKG is negative. So you got nothing to worry as of now, we’re keepin him under observation… you just hafta wait and be patient…you got me?” She smiles as she looks into his eyes.

That should calm Castiel down, but it doesn’t.

“As…as of now?” He picks up a thread that anyone else would have happily bypassed.

“He has multiple rib fractures Cas...we always gotta watch out for lung puncture and pericardial tamponade in such cases….especially when there are sharp bones involved. He had a minor arrhythmia and respiratory trouble on arrival….but that cleared up quickly.” She finally stands up, eyes hardening as the doctor in her finally shines through.

“Jesus Christ…” Castiel finally leans against the backrest in an unconscious gesture, feeling somewhat paralysed with the intensity of emotions flooding through him.

He had had enough of hurt Dean to last a lifetime.

“You have no idea how badly it could have ended Cas…and how lucky you are. Freak had a narrow miss you know?” She tries to soften the blow, knowing fully well that it won’t work on the man in front of her.

“The kids okay?” Castiel can’t help being concerned about the boys.

He wants to know.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to kill them.

But he has had enough of hurt for one day.

“Walked off with minor scratches… At least had the decency to call 9-1-1 and wait on the spot until the EMT arrived.” She gives a knowing smile, as if she had been expecting this question.

“You guys can press charges …you know?” Castiel shakes his head instantly, as soon as the words leave her mouth.

Dean won’t want that….

And right now, Dean is all that matters, all that Castiel can think about anyway.

Everything else can wait….

Castiel doesn’t know how to comprehend the entire thing.

The narrow miss…or the enormity of what might have happened otherwise.

“He’s unconscious ….right?” He winces yet again…

There’s a phantom pain rushing through his body….

It’s almost physical .

Once in a while Castiel feels like crying out aloud.

He now knows how Dean felt when Castiel was sick.

“God…no! He was almost lucid throughout…which is a good sign you know? Even tried to sweet talk the doctors in letting him go… ‘Guys…just slap a Band-Aid or something and lemme go….Cas’s gonna freak out’.” She mimicked , prompting a grin on Castiel’s lips.

The first one that day.

Yes, that’s Dean.

“So we had to sedate him….what you’re gonna see in there is a procedure okay? Not because he’s serious or anything. They’ll wear off soon. Got it?” She pulls him towards the door that Castiel had been dreading for so long.

But then she pauses and stills his eager steps.

“You can’t take Peep in there … rules Cas.” She holds out her arms wide without an ounce of hesitation in her gesture, and Castiel relents.

The transfer is smooth, mainly because she’s kind of a baby whisperer and Joshy loves his godmother to pieces.

It wouldn’t be a problem even if he wakes up in her arms.

If there’s anyone he can trust his baby with, it’s her.

“My shift is about to end ….I’m takin him home with me alright? Richard and I will be back in the afternoon…Dad’s gonna arrive soon. You don’t worry okay?” She rocks the baby effortlessly in between her words, and Castiel nods feeling infinitely lighter all of a sudden.

She starts to walk down the corridor towards the exit, but pauses midway.

“And Cas….there are other doctors here…you know that right? Freak’s in safe hands.” She winks at him and walks away in a breeze.

All of a sudden, the warmth is all gone.

There may be many doctors here, but there’s only one Bee and she’s not here with him anymore.

 

****

 

 

 

There’s a little bruise on the left cheek.

An uneven gash across the right eyebrow.

The bottom lip is swollen beyond shape….

Cheeks bruised, and eyelids closed…

Nasal cannula running through the face…dressing all across the forehead…Band-Aids scattered here and there…

The other injuries are blessedly hidden by the white bed sheet, saving Castiel from a major breakdown.

The face that makes up all of Castiel’s sunrises and sunsets is still here.

Sleeping.

 

It’s been almost an hour since Castiel entered the room.

Deep inside, there was an almost insidious picture of Dean taking hold, lifeless in the midst of beeping monitors, tubes and machines….

Of Dean being here but not quite.

The reality is a bit jarring.

It’s as if he has dozed off after a rough day’s work, if you can overlook the surroundings.

Two nurses and a new doctor who introduced himself as Ethan has been here in the meanwhile, assuring him that everything is okay .

They all did the same thing, checking the heart monitor and the arterial lines before scribbling in the chart and walking off.

And Castiel’s waiting.

He’s a little bewildered at himself.

One’s supposed to feel a myriad of things when his husband is lying on the hospital bed.

But anger isn’t supposed to be one of them.

He’s not sure at whom it’s directed.

But he’s pissed off.

He really wants Dean to wake the fuck up… hold him in one of those bone crushing breathless hugs and tell him that he’s okay.

He wishes he wasn’t so weak.

For here he is, seeking out comfort from the person who needs it most right now.

He’s mindlessly walking through the room, counting steps when there’s absolutely no need to.

Seven steps from the bed to the door.

Fourteen steps around the bed.

Two blue geometric patterns in each of the drawn window curtains, grey in color.

Dean’s eyes are still closed and Castiel’s losing his mind.

In the middle of counting steps from the bed to door and back again, he steals a glance at the sleeping man and finds himself shaken.

Dazed green eyes staring at him…left arm extended towards Castiel as if  to usher him closer.

“Dean?” Castiel all but lunges to the bedside chair…

Dean’s awake.

It’s like some invisible power suddenly loosens the choke hold around Castiel’s throat and he can breathe again in huge erratic gulps.

“Hey..,,hey.” Castiel’s hands shake as he touches the face, unsure of any pain that he might unwillingly cause his husband.

Dean it turns out, is still Dean.

Eyebrows crease as emerald orbs give his face the once over , and lips open in a silent utterance.

Dean’s trying to say something.

“What is it huh?” Castiel leans forward , unable to decipher the silent words in Dean’s lips.

He should be happy that Dean’s awake. He should smile and thank the almighty like others would.

But Dean’s lying on a hospital bed, breathing through a tube.

Castiel’s lost.

He came so close to losing it all and he doesn’t think he will smile again.

Words seem to rush to his lips before dying down into bewildered silence.

But as it turns out, there’s no need of words.

Dean’s lips are still moving, and Castiel leans even closer…

He’s still shivering inside, just as scared when Dean’s awake as he was when he was sleeping.

He’ll need a little more time to make himself believe that he his husband’s still here.

“What is it? Dean? Feelin sick? Thirsty, right? I’ll call the nurses. ” He kisses the forehead and proceeds to press the button, only to be stopped midway with a gentle palm on his chest.

Dean’s studying his face with that same strange expression colouring his features once again.

His face is angled on the pillow, pointed stubbornly towards Castiel.

One uninjured arm outstretched to make his message clear.

Come closer.

“Dean? Hey… Lemme just  call the nurse…okay? Shhh!”He finds himself drawn to the warmth of the lain man, closing his eyes as a callused hand touches his lips.

“What is it ?” It’s Castiel’s turn to frown.

He brings his ears closer to the swollen lips, instinctively leaning into the fleeting touch however little may it be.

And he hears it this time.

“Smile.”

In a tiny, breathy, barely there whisper, spoken like a prayer.

Dean’s asking him to smile.

And suddenly the entire armour crashes.

It seems as if he has an entire battle to fight, but has suddenly lost all the will to go on.

Dean’s looking at him, face crumpled in unseen turmoil, and Castiel can’t fight anymore.

“Shhhh….Am smilin see? Shhh…hey. You need to calm down…your chest..” Castiel tries to smile, and fails utterly.

His voice breaks as he gently pushes Dean back on the pillow and hovers over him to prevent any movement, his husband’s face captive within the palm of his hands.

“Your chest.” Castiel whispers, clouded blue eyes melting into green ones as they try to speak over the silence of the room.

“Swear to God…” He pinches his eyes shut as tears begin to overflow.

Castiel’s gotta be strong and Dean looking at him is not helping.

Like always.

And then he feels it, a hand pressing on his frantically beating heart.

“Dean?” His eyes widen as Dean opens his lips to speak again.

“My Cas…”

Dean pats on his husband’s chest for an equal measure as if to pass his message through….making Castiel smile through his tears.

It’s a tiny one, but that’s what Dean wanted anyway.

“Your’s…..” Someone whispers.

Castiel’s not really sure who.

Maybe it was him.

And suddenly he feels it.

All the rage that had been crashing against his chest relentlessly, all the fight that he had been building up deep inside against an invisible enemy, against himself, suddenly abandoning him.

He’s tired.

He lays his head on the pillow and closes his eyes, Dean’s hand caressing his cheek.

He has had enough of goodbyes to last a lifetime.

He has had enough of Dean turning his back on him and leaving.

He won’t let Dean go ever again.

****

_Two Days Later…_

“You and Queen Bee are gonna make my hairs fall out you know?”

These were the first words from the man’s lips the second he enters Dean’s room…

It’s a midday and Castiel’s away for a faculty meeting in college, leaving Dean bored out of his skin.

They have finally shifted him to a normal cabin…away from that damn ICU.

And thankfully, the nasal cannula has been taken off.

The look on Castiel’s face every time his eyes fell on it made Dean want to break something.

The visitor has a light blue button down and faded jeans, rumpled hair, and that perpetual five o’clock shadow on his chin.

Some things never change…

And it’s those things that makes you feel secure in the volatile ever changing world.

For Dean , the man who has just entered his room is one of them.

Bobby Singer.

It’s rare for Bobby to be doing something off-chart.

It’s almost an irony.

This man is one of the freest spirited guys Dean has ever come across, incredibly lazy, laid back and mellow at home.

He can actually spend an entire day fishing or writing without a care in the world, everything be damned

Dean bears the witness to that.

And yet….

He’s a workaholic, who’s addiction to his job regularly breaches the threshold of insanity.

Bobby  lives in his work, and it’s very rare to see him without it.

He would never have believed that someone could be the home of these opposing traits had it not been for Bobby .

“Bobby ? Meeting over so soon?” Dean internally cringes at the chaos his accident has caused, as the other man pulls a chair for himself, sitting down with a grunt.

Today was supposed to be Dean’s first meeting with the foreign correspondents as the new bureau chief, as well as his first meet and greet session with domestic beat reporters and the internal editorial team, with Bobby already having taken over as the Editor-in- Chief.

But with the accident, Bobby  has to multitask in both roles ,which certainly means no breathing time in his already hectic schedule.

The other man simply shrugs…casually dismissive as always.

“Got it covered kiddo. Could have come sooner you know? Queen Bee made me go home and change.” He tilts his head back and smiles at the person in question, who has been uncharacteristically silent since she entered the room with Bobby , choosing to stand behind Bobby ’s chair with both her hands resting on his shoulders.

“You stunk dad…and seriously… is it in the job requirements of you guys? Never take a shower till forced? Is it there in fine print?” Both Bobby and Dean grinned at the words.

They have been journalists for far too long to deny this quirk.

Having to stay in arid and unfamiliar countries for weeks on an end is certainly not easy.

And sometimes it means curtailing the absolute necessities of life when needed, having to make choices between what they perceive as important and what’s not.

It’s something only a journalist would understand.

“Shit. Always knew I shouldn’t have raised a doctor!” Bobby  grumbles ,prompting a hearty laughter from his daughter.

Dean laughs, wincing almost seconds later when it pulls his stitches.

With her around, everything feels a bit lighter. He only wishes Cas was here to feel it too.

She’s Queen Bee for sure.

When Bobby  and Ellen named their only child Charlie, little did they guess that it would remain only in papers.

Very few people have actually called her that.

She has been Bee to everyone, right from kindergarten to the medical school.

How Charlie became Bee, is now a part of the family legends.

As it turns out, Bobby had taken his tiny daughter out for her first trick or treat dressed as a bee.

And the name had stuck.

Bee had spent the first years of her life in San Antonio where Bobby started his career as a reporter in the city newspaper that Dean’s dad edited.

She lived just a few blocks away from Dean and Castiel…and even attended the same school.

Theirs was merry a group , with a tiny pigtailed girl firmly establishing herself as the principal trouble maker of three, a sweet package of  angel face and devil’s disposition.

When Bobby got an awesome offer and moved away to New York and the group dispersed.

Though they never quite lost touch , but letters and phone calls are indeed a poor substitute.

Until Stanford happened.

It’s not as if Bee’s medical school, Castiel’s economics department and Dean’s department of mass-communication are next to each other.

In reality Castiel and Dean’s departments were much closer, while Bee’s medical school is all the way in Campus Drive, and with all of them in various years of seniority,  it was almost impossible to hang out together.

But still, the shortened distance did the same to their bond, and it flourished.

“And here I thought we’ll do a double bash…and you get yourself nearly killed!” Bobby  shakes his head shattering Dean’s reverie, and he finds himself pouring over a certain word of Bobby ’s.

“Double?...You mean to say…” Dean pauses and looks at Bee ,eyebrows raised in silent question and she nods.

“Yeah son…the lady over here is set to complete her fellowship….finally!!” Bobby ’s smile is infectious and Dean soon follows.

“Awesome assmunch! Congrats! ” Dean extends his hand towards Bee who refuses to shake it in faked indignation.

“Hey…wait you two! What do you mean finally huh? You guys knew I was gonna finish it eventually….” She throws back at the two men, arms akimbo and eyes blazing.

“Yeah right !” Dean drawls .

After completing her MD from Stanford, Charlie wanted to specialize in Cardiovascular Surgery and Emergency Medicine.

And she received a fellowship in the field.

It all went just as smoothly as everyone wished, until two and half years into the program, Bee decided to put it on hold and go on a world tour giving everyone a minor heart attack.

Falling in love with an author might do that to a person.

No one dares to ask how a medical fellow and a best-selling travelogue writer might have met.

Richard Bradbury, Bee’s husband is annoyingly tight lipped about their first meeting, which just allows her, an expert storyteller to concoct the most outrageous stories at every new telling.

For all Dean knows, Bee probably met her ‘Mr. Day’ in the most generic of all places, online.

“Queen Bee’s fellowship and your award ceremony next month…Me and wifey wanted to throw a big party you know?” Bobby  says excitedly, making Dean shake his head at the sheer modesty of the man.

It’s unbelievable.

An award is a big deal.

Hell….every journalist worth his salt knows Peabody is a big deal.

Bobby  has every right to be excited at Dean’s award.

Except, it’s Dean’s first and Bobby has five of these…not to count the others.

It’s hard to feel proud of yourself when you see a legend on a daily basis and realize how small these victories really are.

“The Chechnian story right? God…..I almost forgot.” They all stop speaking for a minute, memories suddenly flooding back in a rush and pausing the time for a while.

It was a difficult time for all of them.

But it was a whole different story for Castiel who was recuperating from a complex caesarean after giving birth to Josh three weeks back.

Dean wasn’t even supposed to be there.

He was on an extended leave…happily closed away in a bubble with Castiel and his tiny son.

Joshy all chubby cheeked and wizened old man hands, was wriggling and cooing his way into his dad’s heart to leave little space in there for anything else.

But apparently fate is a bitch.

Edward, the network’s journalist covering the ongoing Chechen-Russian conflict was killed after a rogue bomb that exploded in the embassy office where he was interviewing some officers.

It was the first time something like this had happened and there were only three guys in the group who knew the area as well as Robert, like the back of their hands.

Bobby  for one who was in Tokyo for a seminar and Benny for the second who was in Kabul.

Castiel knew what Dean had to do even before he himself thought about it.

Ed’s wife Tanya was a research fellow in Castiel’s college and Dean’s husband couldn’t sit back silently.

Dean knows the reason now even if Castiel has never said it out aloud.

He saw himself in Tanya’s plight.

Like always, he imagined himself engaged in an eternal wait for someone to finally bring Dean back…mangled and sleeping in a shiny coffin.

It’s something Castiel does every time these deaths happen.

It was him who asked Dean to do the needful.

He had to bring Robert back to his two little girls and his wife .

Sending Robert’s body back went without a hitch, but Dean wanted to finish his friend’s incomplete assignment.

What was originally a call of humanity turned into something else when Russian army surrounded Grozny from all sides sending the entire Chechnya in a communication lock-down.

Dean and Kevin were stranded in Abkhaz, a tiny village in Chechen-Georgian border for two weeks as war raged between Chechen and Russian forces.

It was already three weeks before he could return.

People who loved the documentary on death squads and showered it with rave reviews didn’t see the look on Castiel’s face when Dean returned.

“Some days huh?” Someone inquired close by and Dean was back in an instant.

Bee was standing close by ,a soft look all over her face.

Dean knows the look.

Had it not been for her, Castiel would have been dead.

Dean’s husband had gone into a fevered delirium in shock as soon as the news of Dean’s supposed death reached home, and she was the one who had stayed with him and baby until Dean returned.

She has always been here in times of crisis…in times of doubt and resentment.

This is the only reason that her not being here when Castiel was sick felt so wrong.

“I can’t believe that you weren’t here when we needed you…You know how bad Cas was…?” Dean looks away without meeting her eyes.

He opens his lips yet again, but is shushed by a soft finger.

“Hush freako…Am here now aint I? You guys are gonna make me grovel isn’t it?” Bee’s standing by the bedside table intently studying the chart lying there, before picking up a pill bottle from the tray.

“They gotta give you some tablets in half an hour…” She falls back into the doctor’s mode without a hitch.

And then she looks in her wrist watch and huffs impatiently.

“Visiting time’s almost over. Where’s that husband of yours?” She steals a quick glance at the door.

“Ellen was talkin bout a meeting…it’s prob’ly still goin on. Syllabus and stuff… New session you know? ” Bobby  answers from the bedside chair.

He is engrossed in a sports magazine Castiel had left for Dean.

Classes are about to start in a few weeks…and Dean had already known about the meeting.

Things are much more difficult and delicate, with a toddler.

With Joshy still a baby, Castiel can’t stay in the hospital even if he wanted to.

Dean won’t let him.

He just hopes that Cas got the rest he needs.

“Work will do him good… God knows he needs to be distracted.” Dean is sort of glad that classes are about to start.

Something’s up with his husband and Dean knows more than anyone that Castiel needs his job to relax.

His aneurism, Dean’s job, the overall air of breathless insecurity hanging in the air between them had done their damage and Castiel needs the predictability of the daily routine to heal.

He needs the surety that Dean’s gonna return to him at each afternoon to start smiling again.

“He needs to be….Dean Winchester! You better not be thinking about running off once again…”  Apparently Bee took his words otherwise.

By the pissed off look she’s sporting, it’s clear she’s serious.

“I am not goin anywhere…I swear. Not this time.” Dean rushes to explain.

He’s not running off. He has done enough of that to last a lifetime.

His job has always provided him with an easy escape, even if he didn’t look for it himself.

Enough of that.

And she’s smiling once again, mirroring Bobby ’s pleased look who’s a silent privy to the entire conversation.

“I know you miss the chase freako….don’t you?” She cocks her head to one side ,curiously waiting for the answer that she knows already.

Sort of.

She has been a journalist’s daughter far too long to not know how his mind works.

Dean ponders at those words and stills.

“Sure I miss it kiddo…” He nods unconsciously, unable to find it in himself to finish the sentence.

It hits too close a home to be spoken out aloud.

He misses the chase.

But he misses something even more.

Castiel’s laughter.

He doesn’t remember the last time he has seen Castiel laughing.

Sure he smiles….but they aren’t honest.

They are masks to keep up pretences in the front of the world, in front of Dean.

They are just acts.

The realization that he has stolen it away from Castiel is so painful, that everything pales in comparison….

“Dadddda?”

The lisping babble of a child’s voice shatters the momentary reverie clouding the room.

Their eyes fall on the lonesome figure standing by the door, a baby in arms..

His life summed up in one obscure incomplete sentence.

“Cas…when did…?”

 

 

The shoe straps….

Castiel should have known.

His entire existence would hang in a precarious balance, clutching the threads of one broken sentence…owing to his son’s incessant curiosity about the straps of his new boots.

 

*****

 

 

“Hey Dean? Havin a party without me huh? Not cool dude..!” Castiel smiles in lieu of Joshy’s excited babble as he enters into the room.

Dean can’t help smiling as his son clamours to get down from the enclosure of   Castiel’s arms and stubbornly toddles towards the bed.

“Hey there big guy? Come here …” Dean rushes forward to lift his little tyke, suddenly unmindful of the broken bones and the bandages littered all over his body.

God only knows how much he has missed it.

It makes Castiel jump in.

“No…no Dean….I’ll do it okay? Can you promise to stay calm for me? Or I’ll send him back with Bee and Bobby  …I swear….” Castiel’s having a hard time wording the sentence while holding Joshy by the back of his shirt…who’s clear having none of it.

“Naaa…wanna go dada..” He tries to tear himself away from Castiel’s grasp.

Yeah…

One look at his dada and his son is sold.

He looks at Dean’s face and his insides tighten once again.

Dean isn’t looking at his face.

He isn’t even looking down at his own lap.

He’s staring intently at that one hand of Castiel that’s holding Joshy captive .

And Castiel fails to be strict.

He carries his precious cargo to the bed and places it there, but not before leaning down to place a tiny kiss on the bandaged forehead.

He smiles when Dean leans in the touch.

He scoots Josh towards his eager daddy and sits beside them, effectively sandwiching him between their bodies.

Dean’s busy with Joshy ,and Castiel does the only thing he can think of doing.

He draws his family within the enclosure of his huge arm , fingers casually grazing the cast on Dean’s shoulder on the other side.

For once he feels at peace.

Joshy has instinctively crawled towards his dada’s lap, and he doesn’t seem to mind as callused hands move all over his body in loving abandon.

Dean has missed it.

Castiel knows this even more than Dean did himself.

Leaving early and driving back to the day care for picking up his son and missing his lunch has been worth it.

“Dada? Boo boo?” Joshy touches a Band-Aid  on Dean’s cheek and pouts, eyes growing big and round.

He knows that dada’s hurt.

“Yeah…kiss it for me? Please?” Dean mock pouts even more in response, bringing his cheek closer to his son.

Three pair of eyes watch on as Dean holds the baby firmly as he unsteadily gets up to kiss his dad’s boo boo.

No one knows how he learned to say that.

Castiel keeps looking at Dean.

He’s torn in a dilemma between wanting to touch him and at the same time not wanting to risk it for the fear of breaking him somehow.

Someone touches his cheek and he startles.

Bee’s standing right next to him .

She’s silently watching the reunion just like her dad at the other end of the bed, a serene look gracing her features.

“Don’t let him run this time okay?” She whispers…

Castiel leans onto her and closes his eyes….

Suddenly there’s one more battle raging within.

There’s one more mile to go.

He’ll try.

 

*************

“Is it working?” Castiel whispers beside Dean, quietly massaging his husband’s temple.

Dean doesn’t answer….

He presses his eyes close and sinks into the pillow, trying to lose himself in the soothing movement of Castiel’s fingers.

“I should have known better ….I should’ve known you’d overdo it you know?” Castiel feels angry at himself.

Dada-baby time has been eventful to say the least…

By the time it ended, Josh was peacefully snoozing in the crook of his dada’s neck and Dean had developed a splitting headache.

Bobby and Bee had left with Josh, murmuring hushed good byes to the boys.

Doctors or nurses didn’t seem too worried, much to Castiel’s concern.

That should have relaxed him.

There’s only one problem in all this.

Seeing Dean in pain has never been Castiel’s thing.

The creases in Dean’s eyebrows start smoothing down and Castiel lets out the breath he has been holding so long.

“Feeling better?” He doesn’t stop even when his husband finally opens his eyes and gives him a tiny grin in response.

Something feels so right.

Castiel’s almost ashamed to admit it even to himself.

Something feels so right in taking care of Dean, in having Dean close all the time, that he feels almost guilty.

It shouldn’t feel this right when Dean’s hurt.

But deep inside ,he kind of knows already.

He has never had it.

This normal.

They have been together for so long, but yet , he hasn’t yet gotten used to Dean…to the idea about being with Dean.

He has always envied his married friends.

It’s not really because they get to have their spouses with them all the time.

It’s because love to them has become a habit… and habit has become love…a daily ritual of care and co-dependence that Castiel has never had.

Dean to him is still brand new, even after a decade of being together.

He still gets giddy at the prospect of having Dean all day.

And he loves that.

But he wants to have what his friends have too.

He wants his house in utter disarray…books, papers and CDs scattered all over….and a lazy husband who refuses to help.

He wants to complain just like his friends do….sharing tit bits over lunch where Castiel sits silently, with nothing to offer.

He wants to fight with Dean for leaving dirty dishes in the sink, for refusing to do his part of the dirty laundry ,and scold him for being a slob.

He wants to make Dean sleep on the couch after fighting over trivial matters like cats and dogs, and make it up with a silly giggle the next morning at the breakfast table.

He wants Dean in his habit.

Dean shakes Castiel’s hand to retrieve his lost attention, and Castiel raises his eyebrows in a silent query.

“Hey…the award’s in three weeks !!” Dean looks excited.

Castiel smiles.

“Awesome huh?” Dean’s excitement is infectious and Castiel can help joining in.

Dean starts saying something, and stops abruptly.

“Jesus! I had almost forgotten…Remember when....” He stops midsentence and Castiel’s hand stills.

It’s the same faraway look that Castiel has come to love and hate at the same time.

It’s his blessing and bane.

“Hey…hey…Dean?” He shakes his husband somewhat urgently, wanting him back to the present.

To Castiel.

“Huh?” Dean’s reverie is broken, but he still looks somewhat dazed.

Castiel stares for a while, lips thinning in decisiveness.

“I’m not letting you go back there…”Blue eyes look intently into mossy green ones, mere breaths apart in the hushed confession.

“Cas? I’m not goin…”Dean’s forehead creases in confusion but he doesn’t get to finish.

“I’m not letting you…I don’t care how much you…I’m not letting you…” Eyes overflow and the first tear rains right on a freckled cheek.

Dean stares up at the face looming over him, thousand words spilling from two expressive eyes. He has no idea why Castiel’s saying this….

He can’t make any sense of the broken words.

He doesn’t need to.

He lifts his uninjured arm and brings Castiel closer by his collars….till they are all but one.

The inner Castiel and the outer Castiel once more in perfect union.

“Okay….” Dean nods.

Castiel brings his ears nearer to the beating chest below till it’s pillowing him ,with Dean’s fingers carding through his hair..

He closes his eyes…

One more mile to go…

**Author's Note:**

> I promise that that next updates wont take quite so long. Please keep sending me your love, views and reactions. It keeps me going :)


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